


Clarity

by Resoan



Series: Drabbles, Requests, and Memes [39]
Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-09
Updated: 2015-09-09
Packaged: 2018-04-19 23:30:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4765040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Resoan/pseuds/Resoan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zevran contemplates the Warden after she refuses his earring, and only her interruption as he does so clarifies everything for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clarity

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written on tumblr; the request was a Frustrated Kiss.

At first, the Grey Warden had been a mystery; being allowed to live had not been something Zevran had even dared to imagine, but she’d grudgingly extended her hand with a suspicious look, and thus their shaky alliance had begun.

Now, several months later, it was so much more than that. 

It had been clear that Alistair had feelings for his fellow Warden - feelings Viranas did not share. Zevran never pried into her past, though he’d gleaned enough from snippets of conversations and innuendo to discern that her past with humans was not a pleasant one, and Alistair, for all his kindness and gentility, could not bridge such a gap.

The woman sought solace with Morrigan most nights, though she would occasionally wander to the mabari who kept watch by him. Zevran flattered her ostentatiously, dramatically even, and when she first cracked a small smile and had to stifle a laugh, he felt himself falter however slightly.

Viranas would come speak with him even more now, inquiring about his past in Antiva or with the Crows, and while some of that information was certainly…delicate, he could still answer her questions satisfactorily. 

His flattery never waned, and indeed, he was caught wholly off-guard when she first returned an implicative banter; Zevran’s surprise was short-lived, however, and when he drew closer - a steadying hand on the soft line of her jaw - she did not pull away, even as his lips brushed hers and he heard her inhale sharply, albeit softly.

Perhaps their short history of a relationship made Zevran’s current situation so baffling. She had helped him kill Taliesin, once a friend Zevran might have betrayed Viranas to protect, but no longer. The earring was perhaps a touch over-the-top, but her reaction was not anything he might have predicted.

_I only want it if it means something, Zevran._  Viranas’ small, regretful smile had made him feel hollow inside, and his answer had been as biting as he’d dared to make it. She had not deigned to take him on her trek into Denerim once more, and so he sat at the campsite with the bard, the golem, and the qunari, his lips pursed and agitation swelling in his veins like a storm at sea about to break loose.

Was he suddenly not good enough for her? 

Quiet, uncertain whispers mocked him, warned him that her fate would be that of Rinna’s if he did not cut ties and leave, but the thought of never seeing her again tore at his heart even worse. It had only been the night before his offering that she’d told him of her wedding and what transpired afterwards. At the time, all he’d been able to feel was blinding, seething rage, but now, all he wanted was to hold her - delicately,  _safely_ , in his arms so that no other entitled noble might hurt her.

_She does not need your protection_. 

The thought echoed inside of him, and Zevran’s hands clenched in his lap despite himself. It was true: she had bested him, and it was only from her benevolence and kindness that he was alive at all. Was it any real wonder he couldn’t properly keep her from his thoughts?

“Zevran?”

Viranas’ sudden appearance startled him, though his reaction was less outward - a spike of his heart, and a sudden need to  _breathe_.

“I take it your talk with Arl Eamon went well?” Zevran attempted light conversation, though Viranas frowned in response, the corners of her eyes crinkling unhappily.

“Please - there is no need to spare my feelings. You have done nothing I should not have expected.” Zevran even laughed as though it might lighten the mood, but all he saw was an inexplicable melancholy settle over Viranas like a heavy blanket.

“ _Zevran_ , please. I’m trying to-”

“You do not  _owe_  me anything, Grey Warden,” Zevran interrupted softly. “You have given me my life, and that is more than I can say for anyone else.”

Her expression hardened at that, and Zevran blinked when her hand grabbed at the buckle across the front of his armor and dragged him closer.

“This isn’t about owing you, Zevran.” Her words, hot and breathy, ghosted across his face, and he very suddenly could not breathe properly. “This is about trust, and affection, and  _love_ , and damn it, if you’re too much of a coward to admit it, then maybe I  _am_  better off-”

She was never afforded the chance to finish, though.

Zevran’s lips pressed tightly to hers, a deft hand cradling the back of her head as strands of brown hair slid between his fingers. “Don’t say that,” Zevran murmured quietly as he pulled away, just far enough to look at her flushed cheeks and dilated green eyes. 

“As if you’d give me the chance,” Viranas replied wickedly. And just as Zevran chuckled, she pulled him down for another kiss.


End file.
